Damaged
by DancingPhalangess
Summary: Ronnie's darkest secret is finally out, and both her and Roxy are left reeling. How will Roxy react and how can Ronnie cope with the flooding memories? One shot. Please R&R.


**A one shot plot bunny because I don't think enough fuss is being made over the fact that Archie raped his daughter. **

"He's done it before. To me." Those words, the words I opened my mouth and unleashed to my sister in the middle of the street. Those words I promised I would never tell anybody. The words I can never take back. That moment goes round and round in my head, over and over until I can't think and I can barely even breath. I carried that secret, that thing around with me for thirty years. Why did I have to let it out now?

Never, even if I live forever will I forget my sister's face as I spoke those words. The way she looked at me, it was what I had always feared. She looked at me as if I was disgusting, as if I was dirty, as if I was lying. She told me to my face that she thought I was lying. Roxy, my very own sister and the first person I ever told called me a liar. If even Roxy doesn't believe me, who ever will? They will all look at me in the same way she did, either with hatred at the 'lies' I can tell, or with horror at how disgusting I am. I allowed my own father to do that to me. I can't even bring myself to say it.

Why now? Why tonight? I shouldn't have said anything, not about Stacey, or myself. I always thought it would be a secret. Right from the very moment he first touched me, when I was just six years old, I promised myself no one would ever know how filthy I was. No one would ever look at me and see_ that_. The secret of what he did was going to stay in my mind, locked away and safe forever. A place where it could hurt only me.

I have carried it around almost my whole life, and all that time it has eaten away at me, crushed my dreams and torn me apart. Every time someone came near me, every time someone touched me I would recoil. I could never stand having anyone near me, not since that first time. Jack was the only person I could have close to me like that without flinching and burning up inside. Even with Joel I was always pretending, always hiding. I loved Joel and I wanted to be with him. Just not physically. It took me ages to even be able to let him touch me as if I actually enjoyed it, as if I wasn't imagining my father with every single breath I took.

Secrets like that one, they don't just stay there, quiet and hidden. They scream and shout, fighting to be let out, screaming to be brought to life. They don't leave you alone, they haunt and plague you. The memories are there, every time you close your eyes to sleep, every time someone touches you, even if it's just a friendly gesture and nothing of a sexual nature at all. All my life, I kept it hidden and it wasn't easy. So many times when I have been with Jack, it's been burning in my throat, tormenting me and threatening to spill. I never let it out though. If I did that, there would be no going back, Jack would know and then he would leave me. He would be so horrified and disgusted that he had ever touched anyone who had been so violated.

That day I found out I was pregnant I felt like my whole world had fallen away. The shattered illusion that was my childhood blew up in my face and the show was soon to be ruined. I hadn't slept with anyone, not even Joel at that point, so there was no way it could be anyone's but my own father's. I was pregnant and it was my dad's baby. This baby's father would also be their grandfather. How disgusting did that make me? It was then I knew that I had to go all the way with Joel. I would have to go there now and pretend I wanted it as much as he did. Then at least I could pretend it was his and the rest of the world would think I was normal.

I often asked myself whilst growing up why I let him do it. Why did I allow my father to touch me every night without a word of complaint? I never even asked him to stop. I have several reasons for that. The first is a something that almost makes me seem like a protective sister rather than a disgusting monster. I thought, if I let him have me, he would leave Roxy alone. If he could do those things to me, and with mum as well, who willingly went along, then Roxy would be safe. What I didn't realise though was all alone it was always me. He was never planning to hurt Roxy, whether I let him touch me or not.

The reason he wanted me was because I wasn't willing to play along to the good little girl act that he always wanted. As a young child, I was good at making friends. Yes, me. I was popular and always with someone or other. My Dad couldn't stand that. He wanted me all to himself, but I was never a daddy's girl. I always had a closer relationship with my mother and friends than I did him, so to make sure I no one ever played as big of a part in my life as he did, to make sure no one ever took his place, he did the unthinkable. That way, he could always control me, he always had something over me to torture me with. He knew that if he violated me like he did, no boy would ever want me, and the same the other way around. I would never want anyone close to me in that way. He always wanted to be the person in my life who decided everything, the one who I feared.

Protecting Roxy was never the only reason I didn't speak out, or try to stop him. The other reason was I was just too weak. I was weak and pathetic and never had the guts to tell him to stop. It was my fault. If I told him to stop, then even if he didn't, at least I would have stood up to him. I would still be dirty and disgusting, but I would have that little bit more self respect. Instead, I hate myself so much, it's a wonder I'm still alive.

Now my secret's out, Roxy knows, even if she chooses not to believe it. She knows what I really am, how pathetic and filthy I am. She knows all this and sees me for what I really am. She looks at me the way I deserve to be looked at, the way I am. Damaged.

I hear a door slam and seconds later my sister is standing there in the centre of the room having thrown open the door and stormed in uninvited. She's standing there and glaring at me as if I'm some sort of murderer, which, I remind myself, she thinks I am.

"Tell me you're lying. Tell it is isn't true," Roxy's voice is lined with venom and hatred. She blames me. Just like I do, she thinks this is all my fault. I deserve everything I get. I look into her eyes and see myself reflected there. I see all the horror and disbelief that was in my own eyes the night he first touched me. I see it and I just can't lie to her anymore. She deserves the truth. She deserves to know how dirty her sister is.

"I can't," I whisper, unable t raise my voice and utter the unspoken truth after all those years. "I can't say that because that would be a lie." Roxy looses it then. She's screaming at me and telling me the same things I've been telling myself all my life, and all the things I feared others would say.

"You're sick! A sick sick liar! How could you say something like that? You're disgusting, you now that? As if anyone would ever touch you, as if anyone would ever want you anywhere near them. How pathetic and lonely must you be to make this up? How much of your sad little life have you spent planning this? Planning the dramatic moment where you drop the big bombshell? Is that why you killed him, eh? Because then you would be free to spread whatever viscous lies you wanted and he could never tell us otherwise?"

After a while, I stop listening. I stop hearing her words because I can't stand to listen. I know I am all those things and more. I am just as pathetic, lonely and filthy as she is making me out to be, but not like that. And I'm not a liar. Funny, although I never thought anyone would believe me, I never imagined Roxy to be one of those. I thought, f my secret ever came out, Roxy would be the one person who stuck by me and decked anyone who dared to say I was lying. Shows however well you think you know someone, they can turn on you at any moment. They can say cruel things and hurt you more than anyone else because you always trusted them. You always thought they would be there, and when they're not, it isn't just what they do that hurts or the fact that you can no longer trust them. It's the fact that you can no longer trust yourself.

Roxy's voice finally dies in the distance. I tune back in to find her glaring at me, it seems she's said all the harsh words she can think of and now she's just going to stare me down instead. Break me with a look. My hand automatically flutters up to my locket, as it always does when I am upset or angry.

"Finished?" I ask Roxy, hating myself for what I am about to do. Roxy glares at me and opens her mouth to say more, but closes it again. Maybe she's waiting for me to say something else she can pounce on, something else to tear me apart with.

My hands shake as I stand up from the bed and delve under. I come back up again with the box that has defined my life. The one with everything that I have ever done stored inside it. Every memory, every mistake, every triumph. No one even knows I have it, and for good reason. I take off the lid and instantly find what I am looking for. I know its position by heart. I have taken it out so many times, just to check. Just to confirm it was real and not all just some horrible nightmare. To make sure I'm not crazy.

The paper trembles in my hand as I hold it out to Roxy. "What is this?" She snaps, still glaring furiously. "If you want proof of what he did. Here it is," I whisper, not trusting myself to speak any louder. My sister snatches the paper from my hand and looks down at it, expecting a hoax. I watch as she reads the information on it as she take in what it must mean.

You see, something good did come out of the small amount of time I got with my daughter. In that short time period, I collected two locks of hair. One to keep for myself, so I would always remember its velvety feel on my skin, and the other to prove what my dad did. Getting his DNA was easy enough, and once I had that, I was able to send them off. I did it just in case. Just so if by some, wild, unplanned disaster, my secret ever got out, I had something to back up my word, something to prove I'm not lying and I'm not crazy. And here is the proof of what he did. Right here in this room on the piece of paper Roxy is now holding in her hands.

I watch her face as the terrible truth finally dawns on her. I think she knew it all along. From the moment I told her what he did, I think she knew. She just didn't want to believe it. She couldn't believe it. Now the proof is right there in her hands and she can't deny it any longer.

**Well that was rather draining. I'm tired now. Mind, that might be because it's midnight. Please review. **


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